


Too Close

by calliopewrites



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Break Up, Broken Heart, Fluff, Love, M/M, Phan - Freeform, Sad, Sad Ending, Tears, Tragedy, but mostly just sad, relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-12
Updated: 2017-01-12
Packaged: 2018-09-17 01:15:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9297722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/calliopewrites/pseuds/calliopewrites
Summary: Phil realizes Dan is growing more and more distant. This leads to confrontation and ultimately heartbreak.





	

**Author's Note:**

> All events in this work are fiction. I am not associated with any of the characters in this work and am not implying any relationship between them exists in real life.
> 
> The title is a song by Alex Clare, if you want to find it.

Most romances don’t work out the way the ones in the movies do, but Phil had always thought that what he and Dan had was special. They had their late nights watching movies, their morning anime, their pancakes, and their three hour breakfasts. They were special because they loved each other and would never stop. Or so Phil had thought. 

It wasn’t as if they were arguing, really. They never argued. But really that was the problem. They hardly ever argued. Phil avoided confrontation at all costs, and Dan complied. But in this silent agreement, there were some faults. Dan would stop speaking to Phil if there was something bothering him. Usually, though, Phil would notice. Phil would ask what was wrong, in the least confrontational way possible, and Dan would tell him. And then they would make up and move on. That wasn’t happening though now. Phil tried to reach out to Dan, triedy to convince him to tell him what was on his mind. But Dan would brush it off as nothing, and then Phil would feel better. He would be reassured for a moment, but then Dan would only become more distant.

Phil remembered the last good day. It had been several months ago. They stayed in bed late that morning, cuddling, kissing, whispering. Then they’d made pancakes, and Phil had spilled batter on the floor, and Dan had laughed. They’d gone out to do some shopping, but ended up just wandering around aimlessly together. They’d sat on a bench in the park and Phil had played with Dan’s hair as Dan had lay with his head in Phil’s lap and they had watched clouds roll across the sky and then it had started to rain. They’d sat there in the downpour until they were both drenched, and then had made their way back home, giggling as they constantly brushed each other’s wet hair away from their face to kiss under shop awnings. But that had been then and Phil didn’t know what had happened from then to now to change everything.

Sometimes Phil blamed himself, thinking maybe he had done something wrong. At these times he would lie in his room on his bed and stare at the ceiling and let silent tears fall onto his pillow. Other times he would blame Dan, and then he would scream, and throw things, but this was always when Dan wasn’t home, off on some mission known only to himself. These moods would end almost as quickly as they had begun and then Phil would pick up the broken pieces of himself and hide them away where Dan wouldn’t see them. Not that Dan ever looked anymore.

Most often though, Phil just ignored it. He would push away the silence and the distant expression and go on as though nothing was wrong. It was hard, but he justified it with the thought that Dan would do the same for him if their roles were reversed. However, as time wore on, Phil found this more and more doubtful, until this reasoning dissolved like a newspaper left out in the rain.

It happened one Thursday evening. Phil was in one of his sad moods, where the blame weighed heavily on his shoulders and he hid in his bedroom. This particular evening, Dan had been out, off somewhere. He never told Phil were he was going anymore. When Dan returned, he walked into Phil’s room. Phil sat up, surprised. Dan never came in here anymore. They used to share a room, but as Dan had gotten more and more distant, he had started using his old room, from when they had simply been housemates, friends, and nothing more. 

“Oh, you’re in here,” Dan muttered.

“Well, it is  _ my _ room,” Phil replied. Then he winced, realizing how harsh he had sounded. Dan didn’t notice this reaction, only hearing the argumentative tone of his voice.

“Oh, right, I’m so sorry. Because it’s your fucking room, your fucking apartment,” his voice was rising.

“Well, erm, yes,” said Phil, not sure how to reply.

“Well maybe I’m tired of that. Maybe I’m tired of seeing  _ you _ everywhere. Maybe I need a break. Maybe I need some goddamn space. Maybe I should just move out.” The words echoed in Phil’s ears.

“No, no, Dan, don’t do that, really, I didn’t mean it.” He spoke quickly, desperately.

“Why? Why shouldn’t I? Give me one good reason,” Dan demanded.

“Because-Because we’re friends,” Phil said weakly, not sure he even believed himself. 

“Friends,” Dan spat. He laughed humorlessly. “Don’t pretend Phil. Don’t pretend you haven’t noticed how awful I am. How I’m a terrible friend, a terrible  _ boyfriend _ .”

“No, Dan, it’s okay, really, we can get through this.”

“Yes, because that’s always how it is with you. You  _ forgive _ . You  _ forget _ . You move on and don’t give a shit what people do to you.” Dan was yelling now.

“Dan, please, just tell me what is wrong,” Phil pleaded.

“What’s wrong? You’re what’s wrong Phil. And I’m done. I’m leaving.”

“Wh-where?” Tears were streaming down Phil’s face.

“I don’t know. I don’t fucking care. Felix’s. Or maybe Louise’s.” Dan was breathing heavily and his face was flushed. He turned and rushed out of the rooms. Phil lept of the bed he’d been sitting on and ran after him. 

“Dan, wait. Dan,  _ please _ .”

Dan pulled on his coat.

“No, Phil. I’m sorry.”

Phil collapsed onto the couch, not bothering to muffle his sobs. It wasn’t as though anyone could hear him anyway. There was no one who would care, no one who would comfort him. Phil was alone.

He stayed in the apartment for several days, stumbling around with red eyes and a tear stained face. Occasionally he would flick through channels on the television or browse Tumblr or try to play a video game. He didn’t sleep and he didn’t eat. He cried a river, and then a lake, and then an ocean, until he realized tears wouldn’t bring Dan back. Nothing would.

On the fourth day, he called PJ.

“Phil, how are you?” PJ’s voice was bright and cheery on the other end of the line.

“I-I… Dan l-left and―” Phil couldn’t finish the sentence. PJ, luckily, didn’t need to hear anything more.

“I’m coming,” he promised. And he did. He brought ice cream and hugs and comfort and later Chris came too. They tried to make Phil laugh. They convinced him to leave his apartment, just for a bit. And so Phil did. He went back to his parents house. He stayed there for a week. It was quiet there, and peaceful. No one asked him any questions. They just understood. Then he went back, when he decided he was ready. The apartment was full of dust and memories. He needed a change. He decided to move. He took the first apartment he found, even though it was smaller and not nearly as nice as the one he and Dan had shared. It didn't really matter to him, so long as there was no shadow with brown fringe and laughing eyes that always seemed to follow him when he entered the old one. 

PJ and Chris helped him pack up his things and move them. He left Dan’s possessions for last, unsure if what to do with them. Chris offered to help him burn them, and he seemed to be only half kidding, but Phil couldn't bring himself to do something like that, or even to sell them or throw them away. It wasn't like Dan had died. He was just… gone. And so Phil decided to pack up Dan’s things as well.

PJ and Chris offered to do it for him, so that he wouldn't have to remember. Phil said he didn't care. Really though, he didn't have to look at what Dan had left behind to remember all they had done together. He thought perhaps packing it up himself would give him some sort of closure. 

As soon as he started, though, he knew he had been wrong. The moment Phil opened the door to Dan’s room, the smell of Dan’s cologne and the aroma of his favorite scented candle wafted over him. It wasn't so much that he was reminded of the memories themselves, but the small details he had forgotten because they seemed so trivial and unimportant but were not all he had left to cling to. 

There was sunshine reflected in warm brown eyes and the smell of pancakes and the sound of laughter. There were traditions only they had shared and jokes only they would laugh at. There were long conversations and tears and smiles. There were nights spent in each other’s embrace. There was everything and so much more and Phil’s tears fell one and stained the carpet as he packed it all into boxes and said farewell to it all.

Somehow, PJ learned where Dan was living, so that he could take the boxes to him. Chris rented a truck and, at the last minute, Phil decided to come. Closure, he kept saying, although he knew the visit would help absolutely nothing, and probably only make things worse.

And so really, Phil shouldn't have been surprised when they arrived to find Dan’s house was a nice apartment on the other side of London. He shouldn't have been surprised when he rang the doorbell and some other man answered, tall and handsome and so not like Phil. He shouldn't have been surprised when he learned Dan did live there, too. He shouldn't have been surprised when he heard the man refer to Dan as Bear and Danny.

But he was surprised and after a short conversation in which he learned Dan was not home, he turned and walked back to the waiting truck. He didn't respond to PJ’s or Chris’s questions but instead simply said,

“We can sell it. He doesn't want it.” They didn't ask anything after that, and the ride to Phil’s new apartment was spent in silence. 

They dropped him off and then left after Phil assured them he was fine and didn't need any more help. When he walked in the door though, something snapped. He punched the wall, leaving a dent. Then he set about unpacking his apartment, telling himself that Dan had moved on long before he had left and now it was time for him to do the same.

 

Two Years Later

Phil sat on the couch, his head on James’s shoulder. Their eyes reflected the glow of the television as the end credits of a movie rolled on the screen. James yawned.

“I'm going to bed,” he said, kissing the top of Phil’s head and standing. He grabbed Phil’s hand to pull him with him, but Phil’s phone began to ring. Phil fumbled with it for a moment before glancing at the caller displayed on the screen.

“I'm coming, just a moment.” James sighed and smiled, kissing Phil again before leaving the room. Phil hit the talk button on his phone.

“Hello?” he said. 

“Hi,” Dan’s voice on the other end sounded far away and tired, but still recognizable. “It's been a while.”

“Yes,” said Phil.

“I-I wanted to say I was sorry,” Dan said.

“Oh.”

“I wanted to tell you that I was wrong. That I was afraid. I loved you so much that it hurt and I was terrified. I didn't understand what we had was special. I didn't understand that you were the one. I made a mistake. I tried to get over you and convince myself I had forgotten but I can't. I never will. I love you, Phil, with all of my heart, and nothing is ever going to change that.” Phil was silent. He could hear James humming in the other room. “Phil, are you still there?” Dan asked.

“Yes,” Phil replied emotionlessly. 

“Oh, ok, well, I was just wondering… do you think that maybe we could see each other? Please?” Phil bit his lip.

“I'm sorry Dan.”

“Wh-what?”

“I can't.”

“Why not? Phil, really, I am so, so sorry, and I regret all that I did to you every day. Phil, please…”

Phil could hear him crying on the other end. A single tear slid Phil's cheek, the first time he had cried over Dan since the day he had packed up those boxes of memories two years ago.

“I'm sorry Dan, really, truly I am.”

“Phil…”

“You moved on, Dan, and so I did too.”

And with that Phil hung up and walked away from Dan Howell, once and for all.


End file.
